Twelve Houses
by Jaclyn840
Summary: From Twelve Victor's Villages; A reminder of everything they've lost. Oneshot


**A/N: Written for the Caesar's Palace Nova Challenge Prompt: Architecture. Involves (mostly) AU Victors.  
**

* * *

**District 1**

Glimmer takes off the diamond bracelets and pearl necklace before she enters, chucking them onto a marble table standing in the entryway.

Everywhere, chandeliers and gold-framed paintings line the interior of her house; she refuses to call it a home, and has a habit of keeping her head down as she treads its thick, woollen carpets. She walks fast, and breaks into a run when she spots another bundle of jewellery sitting on her mahogany dresser, haphazardly strewn from when she tore them off her body after a date last week.

Glimmer kicks off her heels and strips off her silk dress, ripping the seams in the process. She flings it onto the marble bathroom tiles and steps into the shower, feeling for the ivory knob that'll wash her memories of last night away. Of all the luxurious materials that make up her house, she likes this one the most.

On a creaky bed in the attic lies the tattered blanket and drool-stained pillow she used to share with her mother not too long ago when they were poor, and she buries her face into them.

* * *

**District 2**

She usually sleeps in the trainer's dormitory at the Academy, but there're a lot more students this year, and she had to give up her room to a pair of wide-eyed girls seeking their shot at glory.

Enobaria keeps her eyes down as she passes beneath her home's imposing stone archways, and tries not to imagine eyes looking back at her from amidst the ripples of granite lining her walls. She chucks her bag onto the couch and switches on the TV; the lively Capitol music program doing little to alleviate the atmosphere in her home.

It's the middle of summer, but Enobaria starts a fire in the hearth anyway.

* * *

**District 3**

The lights come on automatically when he walks into the house; and a pleasant female voice greets him by name through the speakers. It's never too cold or too warm inside, sensors detect the temperature outdoors and the heat emitted by its occupants, calibrating the air-conditioning to an optimal level.

"Coffee," Beetee says casually, placing his mug beneath a nozzle. Sugarless black espresso is dispensed at 72.5 degrees Celsius; just the way he likes it.

He sits in front of a screen and sips, his eyes poring over the multitude of other Districts' news and Capitol propaganda he managed to tap on the airwaves.

Beetee cups his face in his hand and thinks.

* * *

**District 4**

The carpenters of District 4 built their Victor's village houses from the hulls of old fishing boats. It's the only wood capable of retaining the smell of the sea, and they know the Victors will prefer that above any luxury.

Their houses line a cliff, giving its occupants a breath-taking view of the sunrise over the horizon every morning.

Annie stands at the furthest edge of the cliff, feeling the sea-breeze kiss her face awake. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks are soothing to her ears; and she wonders what it'll be like to leap into the waters below.

* * *

**District 5**

Used to living in a cramped apartment, the modest one-storey metal house looks like an imposing steel fortress to her. In her mind, the red-haired girl questions the safety of living in a house made entirely out of metal with multitudes of power cables running underneath, and whether the resultant magnetic flux will cause the same headaches her mentor suffers from.

As the Iron Gate clangs shut behind her, she _almost_ wishes she was back among the trees.

* * *

**District 6**

The red brick houses line up neatly like a row of railway sleepers.

Remembering a game she used to play with her brother by the tracks when they were children; she picks up a stone and tosses it as far as she can. This time, instead of the laughter that follows, all she hears is the echo of the stone landing on a roof.

Unpacking her clothes alone, the girl wonders if she'll get used to the silence of the Victor's village, so far removed from the roar of train engines.

She finds her mentor sitting on the street by the Justice Building one evening, and asks him where he's been putting up.

"I don't live in the Victor's village, it's way too quiet. I prefer my old house since it's next to the hospital," he slurs, clutching a white paper bag to his chest, "you'll want to move nearby one day."

* * *

**District 7**

Johanna Mason's two-storey log cabin used to be filled with noise and cheer a long time ago, and the sound of her siblings' scampering feet made thud-thud-thud sounds on the floor every morning when the smells of her mother's breakfast wafted through the house.

Now, there's nothing but the chirpy tweeting of birds and the scent of pine.

"Try taking _that_ away from me," Johanna sneers, before dozing off on her couch.

* * *

**District 8**

The boy's jaw drops at the immense velvet curtains billowing in the wind, and his eyes widen at the rays of light filtering through the thick fabric. There're thick woollen rugs lining the floors, silk tablecloths draped over the tables, and the linen waiting on his bed is made of exquisite Cashmere. But all the boy sees are the curtains, seated on the window like a monarch on his throne.

"This is bloody magnificent," he mutters to himself, unzipping his luggage and taking out a sketchpad.

After a year of living in near-darkness, he pays some workmen to take the damn curtains down.

* * *

**District 9**

With trembling hands the boy reaches into a sack and pulls out fistfuls of flour without measuring; he can tell its weight by the way it presses back against his hands. The countertop in his kitchen is made of white marble, solid and strong – but to his fingers it feels like porcelain.

He holds his breath as he runs his fingers over a tray of eggs, wanting to _hear_ the sound that his skin makes when he touches the shells. _It's such a luxury, to be able to make your own food, _he thinks, remembering the days when his hungry eyes would be staring at the food, and the Peacekeepers eyes staring even harder at him.

He closes his eyes over the well of water he's made in the middle of the flour heap and tries to think of the missing ingredient. _Salt._

But there's salt in there already.

* * *

**District 10**

The girl opens her backdoor for the first time and gasps at the expanse of pastureland before her eyes. She runs off into the field, unable to believe that so much land was allotted to one single Victor.

"Dad!" she cries out, when the old man finally catches up with her daughter, "I wanna go down to Uncle Jim and get me'self a bull and ten heifers and I'm gonna need tin wire for a coop of chickens…"

"Bonnie!"

"…and there might be enough land for sheep and – hell there _will_ be enough…"

"Bonnie!" the man gasps, clutching the girl by her shoulders, "You won! Don't you get it? You ain't gonna ranch no more! You can afford more than enough food for an entire lifetime!"

The girl tips her wide-brimmed hat down against the sunlight. She thinks of the vast amount of food her farm-land could be capable of producing, and can almost hear the lowing of cattle in the fields.

* * *

**District 11**

When Rue moves into her new home, she can hardly contain her excitement, running from room to room and squealing with amazement at each new found wonder. She stares at the five enormous empty cabinets in the kitchen, before reminding herself that she _can_ afford to fill it up with food other than salted tree bark and tapioca leaves.

The twelve houses surround a massive garden teeming with produce; it was started by Seeder a long time ago when she needed to fill in the idle hours of being a Victor. The garden's large enough to feed an entire village of people for months, but most of the food goes to waste.

Rue learns the hard way; watching two girls get beaten by Peacekeepers for accepting the apples from Seeder's garden.

* * *

**District 12**

After the war, District 12's Victor's village was the only one in Panem which lost its status – being the only standing structures spared by Capitol firebombs.

Katniss Everdeen knows this all too well. With the haunting sights of Prim smiling in the hallway or the sound of her mother's hollow voice on the phone; she hardly feels like a Victor.

After three months of trying and failing to sleep with the voices of children's laughter echoing through her house; Katniss stops trying to put up a strong front and appears at Peeta's doorstep with a bag of clothes and her toothbrush.


End file.
